


No Fit State

by allourheroes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Possibly below the age of consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:33:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles are caught in the act.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Fit State

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt at teenwolfkink: "Stile spends a lot of time alone at home with his dad working late and being the Sheriff so having Derek come over becomes a routine. Until his dad comes home early and walks in on Derek and stiles having sex and he has to deal with the fact that not only is his son having sex but he’s also gay and sleeping with an accused murderer." Title is from a Hot Chip song ("No Fit State." Creative, right? No.).

His dad's car pulled out and Stiles's eyes immediately shot to the window, expectant. Derek would know that the house was empty in seconds--sometimes appearing outside his room before his dad had even stepped out the door. In fact, sometimes Stiles found himself pinned to the wall when his dad was yelling goodbye to him.

At first, he had only come to hide out while the sheriff-- _Stiles's dad_ \--was out searching for him. It had gone quickly from furious arguing to Derek angrily pinning him against the wall to Stiles losing his virginity before Scott in the heat of some not-as-angry-as-they-thought moments that had led to some interesting looks from Scott at the way he was so visibly marked up.

Scott had asked if Derek was threatening him, if he needed help. Stiles had, in a moment of awkward embarrassment, simply told him no. Scott hadn't asked about it since.

Derek was slipping through the open window as silently as he always did. His jacket was off and he was stalking towards Stiles, who swore he saw the werewolf's eyes flash blue for a fraction of a second.

"Pants off?" Stiles joked to receive only a growl in response. "Okay, pants off," he replied, getting them halfway down his thighs before he finished speaking and Derek eagerly pushing him back on the bed, stripping his jeans from his legs down and off of his bare feet, tossing them carelessly across the room, knocking something over--Stiles wasn't sure what exactly as a very impatient werewolf was tugging at his shirt.

"Hey, hey!" Stiles protested. "There are rules in this house, buddy. Which means no breaking things, okay?" Derek had him completely naked and was quickly ridding himself of his own clothing and crawling hungrily over the boy. The wolf's fangs elongated and Stiles felt his cock twitch. Fuck it. He arched himself up to make skin contact, watching as Derek's sharp canines retracted and he pressed his mouth to Stiles's, biting at his bottom lip with blunt human teeth. Their dicks made contact as Stiles squirmed underneath the man, causing him to groan at the much wanted friction. He had been waiting all day for this.

Derek was already reaching over to the nightstand drawer and yanking it open, lube in his hand in only a second. He was coating his fingers with it just as quickly, patience wearing even thinner than it had been before. His eyes turned as Stiles looked up into them, suddenly that impossible, inhuman blue.

Stiles gasped as a slicked finger circled his hole, trying to loosen the tight ring of muscle, and-- "Ah! Derek!" as a digit slipped in to begin stretching him, slowly working its way in further. Derek nipped at the nape of Stiles's neck, careful to keep his fangs in check as he did, then biting a bit harder and laving his tongue over what would definitely be a mark tomorrow as he nudged another finger into Stiles. He began moving them methodically, knowing exactly what he was looking for, and, "Jesus, Derek," Stiles breathed as the other man hit his prostate, gently coaxing him open still more as he got a third finger in. He used the three digits carefully to prepare the boy--not like their first time when he'd hurt him a bit in their mutual fervor.

The writhing Stiles was doing underneath him seemed to express his readiness, not to mention the whining. “Come on.” With that, Derek crooked his arm around one of the boy’s legs, pulling it up to give him better access as he slipped his fingers out and coated his cock with the lube.

“Will this shut you up?” he gritted out and then he was pushing into him, rolling his hips as he slid in and bumping against Stiles’s prostate. He made a few steadying thrusts before ramming back into it, Stiles moaning so loudly as he did that his oversensitive ears were ringing with it. Derek kept a more even pace after that, growling against the pale skin of the boy’s collarbone.

Suddenly, he stilled.

“What are you doing?” Stiles practically whimpered.

“Shut up. I thought I heard something.”

Stiles tried wiggling his hips for more contact but it was made difficult by the way Derek’s pinned his down so overpoweringly. “Was it the sound of you not fucking me? ’Cause there’s an awful lot of that happening right now.”

Derek looked down at him, eyes and teeth wolfed, annoyed, distracted. The only thing that mattered now was making Stiles regret saying anything. He moved again, thrusting harder into the boy’s body, probably bruising Stiles’s hipbones--but he deserved it.

“God, can’t you go a little faster? The whole night’s just wasting away with one fuck,” Stiles taunted and was met with Derek pulling out, flipping him over, and pushing back into him again in the blink of an eye. “Holy shit,” he grunted, muffled by the pillow Derek had shoved his face into.

“No more talking,” Derek snarled, punctuating each word with another pivot of his hips, dick hitting that spot inside the boy with each thrust.

\---

Sheriff Stilinski had come home early in an attempt to surprise his son. After all, not only did the kid deserve more family time but, hey, someone was trying to kill him. When he heard a thump and the sound of his son’s voice yelling “Derek!” he shot up the stairs and tore open the door to Stiles’s bedroom…only to find his teenage son mid-coitus with a guy who looked a lot like the sketches of Derek Hale they had been posting around. He also could have sworn he saw fangs, but that was ridiculous. “Stiles?”

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Stiles murmured under his breath as Derek pulled out of him, leaving an empty, open feeling that did not help at all with the fact that his father had just caught him with the man he’d accused of murder. Derek was already slipping on pants, but all he could do was pull a pillow over his lap as he sat up. “Uh, dad, can you give me a minute?”

His dad gaped at them but shut the door again.

Stiles searched for his clothes but Derek was already dressed again and about to head out the window. “No, no, no, no, no,” Stiles told him, straightening his shirt and grabbing his jeans from the far corner of the room, finding the lamp that had broken in Derek’s haste, “you stay. Otherwise, this,” he gestured between the two of them, “is only going to look much worse.”

“No, Stiles,” Derek responded, turning back from the window, “you know what makes this a lot fucking worse? That your _dad_ thinks I’m the killer because that’s what you fucking told him.”

Stiles winced, “Yeah, that was totally my bad. Maybe if he met you…?” He eyed Derek. “Or…maybe not.” Derek started for the window and was about to leap out when Stiles got close to him. “Kiss for good luck?” he tried, weakly. Derek bared his fangs in frustration and was gone.

The boy tried calming himself. _Well, maybe he doesn’t know that’s Derek_. But even with that bit of hope, there was still an awful lot he wasn’t looking forward to talking about. And he certainly didn’t want his dad asking if that was his _boyfriend_. With a deep breath, he opened the door and found his father pacing in the hallway.

Sheriff Stilinski looked up at his son, deciding that making eye contact for another few minutes sounded like just about the worst idea he’d ever had. “So…who was your friend?” he tried.

Stiles’s mind went blank, his mouth hanging open like a fish and his eyes glazing over.

“Was…” His dad shook his head, this had to seem ridiculous. This was ridiculous. “Was that Derek Hale?”

Cue the nervous laughter. “What? Oh, him, no-- Okay, yes.” Stiles stopped laughing and swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat didn’t go away.

The emotions that flashed through his dad’s expression went something like this: worry, anger, confusion, anger again, and then it sort of evened out into this unreadable thing that only made Stiles more nervous. His dad just didn’t know where to start. “So, are you gay?” Stiles opened his mouth. “I mean, I’m fine with that,” he added hurriedly.

Stiles responded before the other questions were tumbling out of his father’s mouth. “No, I still like girls. Just…well, yeah, that was a guy,” he conceded. “Hey, whatever floats anybody’s boat,” he joked, but was met only with a pained expression.

“Didn’t you say Derek Hale was the one trying to kill you and Scott and your friends at the school? Not to mention his sister?” Now, they were onto the tough questions.

Stiles, surprisingly, couldn’t think of a way to get out of this. “Well, yeah, I did _say_ that, but give me a break, I was pretty sure he was dead back then.”

That gaping mouth seemed to be a family trait tonight. His father opened and closed his mouth wordlessly for a moment, trying to allow his brain time to catch up. “Right.” He almost seemed as if he’d already left. “Well, did you use protection at least?”

Stiles flushed and lied through his teeth, “Yup. Totally. Of course.”

“Good.” His dad nodded, to himself mostly and started towards the stairs. “Oh, and Stiles?” He didn’t await the response. “Is that blood on your shirt?” He didn’t even look back towards his son, simply stood there by the stairs.

“Um, possibly.” He pursed his lips.

His father finally looked back at him, his face heavy with the the responsibility of single fatherhood. “We’re going to talk about this more later. But for now, there’s pizza downstairs.” He shook his head again. “Your, uh, your friend can have some, if he likes.”

“Even though I told you he murdered a bunch of people?” Stiles blurted out. Damn his big mouth.

His father was never going to get down those stairs. “Well, did he?”

“No, but--”

“I’m not sure I want to know all the details, Stiles. Come have some pizza and don’t say anything more about this tonight, okay?”

Stiles nodded and scratched his head. “Okay.” His stomach growled in anticipation of food but his dick was still telling him to get back in there and let Derek bend him over the bed. “Not the time,” he murmured to himself and jaunted down to the kitchen.

\---

When his dad went to bed that night fairly early, Stiles was back to his computer, doing more research on the alpha. He glanced at the phone in his hand to check for any messages and when his eyes settled on the screen again he nearly jumped at the reflection of Derek behind him. “Geez, can’t you give a guy some warning?” he complained, but when he turned, the near-feral, lust-filled look in Derek’s eye stopped him in his tracks. “Pants off, pants off,” he whispered to himself and found that he was already sliding his pajama bottoms down past his slim hips.

Derek was sitting on the bed as Stiles approached him--only to be pulled down on top of him, tripping over his pant legs as they looped his ankles, knees spread apart to accommodate Derek’s thighs between them.

“So what did you tell him?”

“Oh, you know, that you didn’t kill people.” As if it were the most casual thing in the world.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stiles was wondering what his life had come to, but in five minutes when he was riding Derek, he knew that it was almost exactly what he wanted.

Minus all the dead people.


End file.
